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All summer 17  like we living in hell.Bodies after bodies either dead or in jail.Hashtag after hashtag LONG LIVE OR RIP. but it seems we only living for a repeat.Same situation different person,
“Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.” Mirrors for princes,
My life is my canvas Everyday a new struggle Everyday a new scar  
She reeks of perfume- her own special blend of piss and gunshot wounds.
I want to tell you a story
I feel the warm lights on my skin I hear the voices of impatient souls I see the opposing character to my side And I can just taste this sweet tasting goal   Every since I was a little girl
He wrote me a poem once The boy who leaves in January for LA He wrote me a song once The boy I don't want to say goodbye to.   We spent the day exploring a museum once
In the streets of  L.A. I walk the parts full of shade. Even when the sun is up high there are people left to die. But people are blinded by the glamour when they relate LA to Hollywood.
"Hollywood" , She said. That's my dream. Lights, camera, action.  A part of the scene. A comedy, a drama, a TV show. How will I know, if I don't go?  I'm leaving in winter. I booked I flight. 
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